


Hallelujah

by turnofthesentry



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Haircuts, Nightmares, Powerlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnofthesentry/pseuds/turnofthesentry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bob," Lindy said, one night. "I want you to stay in that chair. If you won't sleep in the bed I want you to sit here. I want you to sleep, tonight." Her voice was quiet without being a whisper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah

It wasn't often that Bob closed his eyes, even less often that he did it to sleep. He rarely shared the bed with his wife anymore, telling Lindy that her rest and comfort was more important than him keeping up appearances. Energy sparkled in his eyes and on his fingertips -- he was the Sentry. By his very name he defied sleep, defined watchfulness. 

"Bob," Lindy said, one night. "I want you to stay in that chair. If you won't sleep in the bed I want you to sit here. I want you to sleep, tonight." Her voice was quiet without being a whisper. 

He considered protesting, but Lindy was not a person he could argue with. She never was. He closed his eyes to her insisting ones, trying to comply. It was so difficult for him to understand what she was thinking, and whatever she asked of him, he tried to provide. 

He didn't _need_ sleep but he still _could_ , but he never did sleep _well_. He didn't dream of anything but bottomless darkness, the sensation of water and drowning, but this night he dreamt of Lindy. She stood behind him, her face in shadows, his torn cape in her hands. CLOC was on the ground at her feet, limp and useless. Bob felt weak, dizzy, and his lips couldn't speak anything but her name. 

_"Lindy. Lindddddddddddyyyyyy."_

"Bob?" 

Her voice was anxious, just at the edge of his consciousness. He opened his eyes, gasping in a sharp inhale of air. Lindy was standing in front of him, illuminated only by the faint light he was casting. She was holding scissors. Bob looked at his shoulders, which were covered with fine coils of gold. He felt his head; rough, yet impossibly soft. 

"Did you cut my hair?" He asked, despite knowing she had. The evidence was decorating his costume. Lindy leaned close to him, and he took her hand in his. Subconsciously, he wanted her to drop the scissors. Perhaps the threat he felt was the exact one she'd meant to enact. 

"I thought--" She rested her face against his neck, and he held her. "That if I cut your hair, your powers… I just want things back to normal, Robert. I want you back." 

"I'm--" Bob stroked her cheek, forcing himself to smile. "My powers aren't going to take me away from you, Lindy." 

He cloaked her in his cape, watching the fragments of what had once been his hair shimmer across the dark fabric and fall to the floor.


End file.
